


Bad Boys Do It Well

by Johniarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time, Greaserlock, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Teenlock, johniarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though Johnny never noticed him, Jim had taken an interested in the rugby star. He just needed an opportunity to present itself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Boys Do It Well

**Author's Note:**

> The Behind The Scenes photo of Andrew at the Topman shoot inspired this. I won't even lie. Also, the old photoshoot of him on the motorcycle. Just... god, he translates into Greaserlock SO WELL.
> 
> This was entirely self-indulgent and I loved every minute of it. I did research, and ended up giving up because I didn't want the story to be quite that long. Whoops.
> 
> Some day... some day, I'll write something as beautiful and eloquent as You Give Me Fever. Today is not that day. Today is a day for hot sex on a motorcycle during a thunder storm.

_Jim Moriarty. Jim fucking Moriarty. What a bastard._ Everyone muttered and groaned about him, and his 'gang', with their matching leather jackets and annoyingly loud motorcycles. The question on everyone's lips was how someone so poor could afford such a new machine- from his tight white beater to the worn jeans, it was easy to see he didn't come from money. Not many people did in town, and it was fine, they'd offer, but most didn't  _flaunt_ it like he did.

 _The **nerve**_ _of that boy!_

John Watson, too, was poor, but it seemed to matter less to the gossips around school. What he lacked monetarily, he made up with in charm. Ladies loved him, the guys adored him, and he was a model student and athlete. 

Which made him the perfect target for Jim. There was something  _pure_  about John, something akin to a challenge, and Jim loved the thought of stripping him out of the jumpers he favoured and sucking marks onto his muscular body.  _Johnny likes girls, though. Johnny wouldn't want to be fucked._

Or so Jim thought, until he found a women's skin mag while rifling through John's rugby bag during one practice. 

Men. Page after page of men, beautifully nude and hard, and going from the wear on the pages John'd been holding onto it for a number of years.

_Well, well, Johnny... Not going to take much work, then, is it?_

He made it his mission then, to fuck John Watson and leave him begging for his cock. To tear down that Ladies Man exterior and coax his inner cockslut out.  _And I'll do it within a week._

\---

Harry's car wouldn't start. Not like she should have been driving anyway, but she was the only ride John had. He had never managed to get his license, but his dreams of moving downtown had made it unnecessary. He sat in the office, listening to her on the phone, watching the rain falling outside the windows.

"It's, it's fine. I'll just, um, walk. Hope you get it fixed, Harry." 

He said goodbye and hung up, already dreading the six mile walk back to his home. With his bags slung over his back, and his head bent against the wind, he took off down the road. John was lost in thought, dreading a night of slurred insults about how pneumonia wasn't in the budget, and how he was bleeding his father dry by being a dumb little shit.  _He's going to be so fucking mad..._ He barely registered the sound of a motorcycle approaching a little past the mile mark.

"Hey, Watson!"

No response.

"John!"

Over the wind and rain, he still didn't hear his name.

"Oi! Johnny!"

John snapped his head up and looked around. There, riding slowly beside him, was Jim Moriarty on his sleek motorcycle. His black hair was plastered against his skull, curling slightly against his brow, and water rolled down the leather of his jacket.

"Um. Yeah?"

Jim grinned and jerked his head toward the seat. "Want a ride? I'll give you one."

Despite the boy's reputation- or perhaps because of it- John found himself nodded. "Yeah, actually, that's... thanks. Thank you." He climbed on behind him, soaked to the bone, and gripped the underside of the leather.

"You're gonna need a better grip than that, Johnny. Hold onto my waist."

He wasn't exactly comfortable with that, but he didn't have a choice. While he was hesitating, Jim took off down the rain-slicked road. With no helmet, and no other option, John wrapped his arms around Jim's middle and leaned against him.

"Maybe slow down a bit! Don't want to be a bloody smear on the pavement!"

"Oh, you'll be fine! I know how to handle him!"

Jim sped along, guiding the bike over every curve in the road with masterful ease. John's initial panic faded with every mile that vanished beneath the wheels.  _This isn't so bad. I kind of like this._ The wind rushing through his hair, even with the rain, stirred something warm inside of him. There was a thrill to it, riding without a helmet, arms wrapped around a total stranger- one with a reputation, in fact-, watching the world race by beside him... He laughed, more of a glorified giggle than anything, grinning widely as they rolled into town. Jim eased off the gas, eying the police warily.

"Mind if we pull off for a bit, until the heat dies down?"

John followed his gaze. There were three cop cars sitting at the diner, and another two at the petrol station. He shot Jim a glance. "Uh, yeah. Sure." Jim steered them into an alley beside the bookstore, letting the engine idle as he turned around to face John. He hadn't given the blond a warning. John swallowed, finding his arms wrapped around Jim's waist.

_Oh..._

He thought of the basement, of his father's wrath, of Harry's stay at the hospital.  _Is it worth it? Is it really worth it?_

"So, Johnny. Any girls you're sweet on?"

John blinked as Jim pulled him from his thoughts. "Girls? No, not r-right now... Sarah, um, Sarah and I broke up a f-few weeks ago..." Jim cocked his head, catching the chatter of his teeth. "Here." He pulled off his leather jacket and draped it over John's shoulders.

"What about you?"  _It's warm, it's..._

"I'm hot-blooded. Comes with the lineage. I'll be fine. So, not seeing anyone in the interim?"

Jim used a  _lot_ of complicated words for someone of his repute. A thug, a ruffian, a gang leader... and yet, even from this short interaction, John could tell the boy was well-read.  _You're not what I expected, at all._

"Um, no, no one... no one's really caught my eye."

"So a dry spell. Don't worry Johnny, happens to the best of us."

John drew his arms back and pulled the jacket tighter around his shoulders. Jim was getting soaked, his white beater turning almost transparent against his pale skin. "Sure you don't want this back?"

"You were plenty wet before you put it on, it's only fair. But if you really want to do something for me... You could give me a kiss."

 _A kiss? The last time I..._ "W-what if, if someone sees?"

Jim grinned and leaned in. "It's just us here, Johnny Boy. No one's gonna find out. Worried about that daddy of yours?"

"I- what? No, my father's fine, he's not-"

One muscular arm wrapped around his back. "Fuck him, Johnny, you can kiss whoever you damn well please. I know why a guy with your build wears loose jumpers instead of clothes to show off. I grew up in the same environment, in and out of homes where I went to bed hungry, with split lips and bruises hidden away. Been watching you, I've seen you limping. And I remember when you broke your arm. If he's such a bastard... maybe you need someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

Jim nodded. "Now, how about that kiss, pretty?"

John took a breath and nodded. "Alright. A kiss." He leaned forward, lashes falling closed as the rain pattered off Jim's jacket. Jim, however, had other plans. He cupped the back of John's neck and pulled their bodies together, licking past his lips and kissing him deeply. It was hot, it was needy, and it was fucking  _incredible._ John let out a groan and cupped his jaw, letting himself get lost in Jim's soft, full lips.

_Oh my god. Oh, Jesus, Jim... I can't, I shouldn't-_

The arm around his back pulled him into Jim's denimed lap, and he let out a surprised gasp. 

"Shh, Johnny. Don't be shy... I know what you like," Jim growled, nipping at the skin of his. "You're good at this, you know? And so fucking sexy... Caught a few matches just to watch you sweat. Such a pretty boy, but you weren't into men- or so I thought." He kissed him again, dragging his teeth over John's lower lip. The blond boy shuddered at the contact.

_Thought of me. You thought of me. You like me. You... oh my god... How long? How long have you wanted this? How long have you wanted me? We've never even **spoken** **,** Jim, how... How? _

\---

It didn't take long for John to find himself with his knees hooked over the handlebars, resting firmly against Jim's groin. The dark-haired boy had pulled down his jeans and was working him open, using a bottle of lubricant stashed in the pocket of the leather jacket. John buried his face in Jim's neck, moaning as his fingers worked.

"Never pegged you for such a slut, Johnny," Jim whispered with a grin. He rubbed against his nerves, watching John jerk and writhe in pleasure. "I like it. Not even making it to the first date..." He chuckled and sucked at the hinge of John's jaw. listening to his coos and groans.

"Tell me when you're ready..."

"N-Now, Jim!"

Jim bit at his thigh as he pulled his hand back. He lined John's body up with his own and clutched him close as he pressed into him. "Oh,  _fuck,_ Johnny!" He moved slow, filling him inch by inch, eyes locked on John's even as his blond lashes fluttered closed. John whimpered and let out a pained breath as he adjusted to his length.

"Never... uhn, done this before, so go- go slow..."

" _Oh_... No wonder, then." Jim ghosted his lips against John's as he spoke. "That's romantic, Johnny. Your sweet, virgin pussy gets to be  _mine_..."

 _God, that's so fucking hot! Jim, you... oh, you're something else..._ The blonde groaned and laced his arms around Jim's neck. "Move, move, please..." Jim began to thrust, kissing John hard as he slid deeper. John was in his lap, supported by his arms as he leaned back, legs kicked over the handlebars as the bike rumbled under them. Still in Jim's jacket, his jumper rode slightly up his back as he tried to match Jim's pace. 

"Mmn... God, Jim..."

"Like my cock, Johnny?"

John looked up at him. His hair was a mess, hanging down over his arched brows and curling at the tips. The white tank top was plastered to his skin, hanging loose around his waist with the weight of the rainwater. In the fading light, his eyes burned almost black beneath his fine lashes, and the sparse goatee he was fond of sporting made his smolder almost impossible to resist. 

_Why haven't I seen you before? Really seen you, like this- you're gorgeous, you're... ohn..._

"Y-yes," he gasped, letting his hands wander up to Jim's hair. "God, yes!"

Jim bucked harder, sucking at John's neck as he bounced against his lap. He raised one hand to cover his mouth- the boys strangled moans and desperate panting were starting to get loud. "Much as I love those noises of yours," he purred, rolling his hips. "don't wanna get caught, do we, baby?"

He shook his head.  _No, fuck, no we don't._

"Wonder if you can come from this... Usually I'd help, touch that pretty prick of yours, but my hands are kind of full." Jim let the one holding John up dip down and squeeze his arse. "It's not a bad thing to be." He snapped his hips up, rubbing his head against his nerves, and the boy screamed in ecstasy around his hand. "S-shit, love the way you tighten like that... You're a fucking treasure, Johnny, god damn!" 

John was seeing stars. It had hurt, at first, but Jim knew how to move, how to fuck, and it hadn't taken John long to find the pleasure in each thrust, in each bite, in Jim's filthy words. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, low and heavy.

_They'll want to know where I was. Why I'm so wet. About the hickeys._

The Irish boy clicked his tongue. "Stop thinking," he whispered, voice a low growl in John's ear. "Stop worrying and come for me like a good boy. I can feel you trembling, Johnny- I want to see how good I make you feel. I want to see you come. Do it, Johnny, just let go. Now!"

His head tipped back as his hips lifted. He cried out around Jim's hand as his cock pulsed against his stomach, spilling onto his white tank. John's body tightened around him, muscles still reeling from the force of his climax. "Good boy, good boy, Johnny, sweet baby, fuck!" Jim held his hips in place as he bucked erratically, releasing inside of him. John could feel the heat, could feel his prick twitching, could feel the wet mess dripped down his thigh as Jim pulled out.

"God, Johnny." Jim kissed him, sliding his hands up John's back and knotting them in his jumper. "You're fucking incredible."

John blushed a little as he untangled their bodies. "Not too bad yourself." He got dressed as Jim righted himself on the bike. The dark-haired boy was flushed and grinning.

"What?" He asked as he climbed back on behind him.

"I told you I'd give you a ride," Jim said with a wink.


End file.
